The Duke’s Sinful Bride (Vows of Sin #5)

Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

“ Y ou can’t stop me from taking my Maisie!” Hilfern roared, his voice hoarse but full of fury. Without warning, he lunged at Yvette, his hands reaching out with a wild desperation.

Yvette gasped, clutching Maisie tightly to her chest as she ducked just in time to avoid his grasp. She stumbled backward, the heat from the encroaching flames licking at her skin.

“Hilfern, you better step back or you’ll regret this!” she shouted, her voice trembling yet fierce. “If anything happens to this child, you’ll pay heavily for it!”

Hilfern let out a bitter laugh, his face twisted with deranged amusement.

“You think you can threaten me? Look around you, Duchess. There’s no way out of this inferno!” He spread his arms, gesturing to the flames that had crept closer, the walls of the room now glowing red-hot.

Yvette’s heart pounded as she glanced around, taking in the dire situation. The room was suffocating, the air thick with smoke. Sweat dripped down her temples, but her focus remained on Maisie, who clung to her neck with trembling arms.

“Give her to me, Yvette,” Hilfern said again, his voice softer now but no less menacing.

“You don’t have to die here with her. Hand her over, and I’ll make sure you get out alive,” he repeated.

“Never,” Yvette hissed, backing toward the door. Her resolve hardened as she looked into Maisie’s tear-streaked face, her little eyes red and puffy from the smoke. When Yvette didn’t move, Hilfern’s expression darkened, his fury returning in an instant.

“Then so be it,” he snarled, lunging again.

Yvette spun away, narrowly avoiding him, but the movement threw her off balance.

She collided with the edge of a table, the sharp corner biting into her side. She winced but refused to let go of Maisie, who whimpered softly in her arms.

“Duchess!” Maisie sobbed, her small voice breaking Yvette’s heart.

“It’s okay, darling,” Yvette whispered, her voice trembling. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Hilfern growled in frustration, coughing as the smoke thickened around them. His movements slowed, his footing unsteady.

Suddenly, he stopped, his gaze fixed on something beyond Yvette.

“Albina?” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Yvette froze, glancing over her shoulder in confusion. There was nothing there but flames, yet Hilfern’s eyes were wide, his expression both awe and despair.

He staggered forward, reaching out as if to touch something—or someone—that only he could see.

“Hilfern, stop!” Yvette called, stretching out her free hand. But the words stuck in her throat as the ceiling above him groaned ominously.

A split second later, a burning beam collapsed from above, striking Hilfern and pinning him to the ground. His agonized scream pierced the air as the flames consumed him.

Yvette turned away, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to block out the horrific sight. She had no time to process what had just happened; her focus had to remain on Maisie.

Without wasting any time, Yvette held Maisie tighter and bolted out of the room, but they were stuck there as fire had spread into the corridor, cutting off their escape route.

Flames licked at the walls on either side, and the heat was unbearable. Maisie buried her face in Yvette’s shoulder, coughing violently.

Yvette’s breath hitched as she surveyed the corridor, searching desperately for an opening, or a way out. But there was nothing.

The flames had surrounded them, leaving them trapped.

Her heart raced, each beat echoing with dread.

“Stay with me, Maisie,” she murmured, though her own voice wavered. “We’ll get out of this. We have to.”

Maisie rubbed at her eyes, her small body trembling against Yvette’s. The child’s coughs grew harsher, and Yvette felt panic claw at her throat.

“Please,” Yvette whispered, tears stinging her eyes as she looked around. “Please, someone… help us.”

The flames roared louder, as if mocking her plea. Smoke filled her lungs, and she coughed violently, her knees threatening to buckle. She pressed Maisie closer, shielding the girl as much as she could from the heat and smoke.

This can’t be the end. It can’t? she thought as her mind raced with memories-of Killian’s rare smiles, of Fiona’s teasing, of Maisie’s laughter.

She couldn’t let it all end here, not like this.

“Hang on, Maisie,” Yvette said, her voice breaking as she clutched the child tighter.

But each passing second without an escape route drove a dagger of fear deeper into her chest. She began to pray, her lips moving silently as tears streamed down her face.

“Please,” she whispered again, her voice cracking. “Save her. Save Maisie.”

The intoxicating scent of smoke filled Killian’s nostrils as he rode back toward Oakbourne townhouse. At first, he dismissed the strange flurry of activity, the way people darted in one direction with panic etched on their faces. He was focused on his ride home, the steady beat of hooves against the cobblestone streets easing a little of the anger that had consumed him at the gentlemen’s club.

Oh, if he could get his hands on Hilfern.

But then, as he neared the last bend leading to his townhouse, his chest tightened. The faint smell grew stronger, and when the townhouse came into view, Killian froze atop his horse.

Flames danced against the night sky, violent shades of red and blue licking the walls of his home. Smoke billowed into the air, creating a haze that blocked the moonlight. His stomach twisted, the blood draining from his face.

“Dear God,” he whispered, his voice raw.

Spurring his horse forward with a sharp kick, Killian raced toward the inferno. His heart pounded with dread, the noise of the chaos around him muted by the overwhelming roar of the flames.

As he dismounted in one fluid motion, he saw his staff scattered about, most of them in their nightclothes. Some were clutching one another, their faces pale, while others frantically shouted instructions or carried buckets of water. The futility of their efforts was evident—the fire was too strong.

Killian’s eyes darted among the crowd, searching desperately for familiar faces. A lump formed in his throat when Fiona suddenly appeared before him, her face streaked with tears.

“Brother!” she cried, her voice breaking.

Killian grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently.

“Fiona, what is it? What happened?” His voice was low, strained.

Fiona could only sob harder, her trembling finger pointing toward the burning house.

“What are you saying?” he demanded, his voice rising. He looked past her, scanning the frightened crowd again. That was when the realization hit him with crushing force. He hadn’t seen Yvette. Or Maisie.

His blood ran cold.

“Where are Yvette and Maisie?” His voice was sharp now, laced with fear as he turned Fiona toward him.

Fiona’s sobs grew louder. She tried to form words, but the sound died in her throat. Instead, she gestured frantically toward the house again.

“No,” Killian breathed, shaking his head as though denying her silence would change the truth.

Edward appeared at his side, his face pale as his eyes darted between Killian and Fiona, trying to understand the situation.

Killian felt his chest constrict as Mrs. Harrow approached, her face stricken, her voice trembling with terror.

“Your Grace,” she said, choking on her words. “Her Grace and Lady Maisie…they’re still inside. It seems they’ve been trapped in the furnace.”

He let her words hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. The roar of the flames faded into silence. The voices of the staff, the shouts of the townsfolk—it all blurred into nothingness.

“Trapped?” he whispered, the word barely audible.

Mrs. Harrow nodded, tears brimming in her eyes.

Killian’s body stiffened, and for a fleeting moment, he couldn’t move. His limbs felt heavy, his chest ached, and his mind reeled.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, adrenaline surged through him. His feet carried him forward, each step determined, each stride filled with purpose.

“Killian, no!” Fiona’s desperate cry followed him, but he ignored her.

“Killian!” Edward shouted, reaching for Killian’s arm, but Killian yanked himself free.

“I will not stand here while my wife and child burn alive!” Killian roared, his voice filled with fury and anguish. His gaze locked on the inferno, unyielding.

The heat hit Killian before he even reached the door. It was suffocating, a blistering wall that threatened to push him back, but Killian pressed forward. The shouts behind him faded into the background as he crossed the threshold into the burning house.

His lungs screamed as they inhaled thick smoke, the stifling air making it hard to see or even breathe properly. The soot-filled air seemed to close in around him, and Killian realized belatedly that he should have brought a cloth to cover his face—a damp rag to protect his lungs from the smoke.

But it was too late to think of such things. In the panic and frenzy of the moment, all that mattered was reaching Yvette and Maisie.

The fire was all-consuming, the flames devouring everything in their path. The orange and red hues of the flames cast eerie shadows against the walls, twisting and flickering like demons in the night.

Heat radiated off the walls, burning Killian’s skin, but he pushed on, every instinct in him screaming to move faster. His eyes watered, the smoke and heat stinging them, but he kept his gaze fixed ahead, trying to pierce through the smoke and find any sign of his family.

It wasn’t going to be possible to find them just by wishful thinking; he knew that. The house was burning to the ground, and time was running out. Panic tried to claw at his chest, but he forced it down. He had to focus. He had to find them.

“Yvette!” he called out, his voice rough from the smoke that clogged his throat. His breath came in ragged gasps as he moved deeper into the inferno.

There was no response at first, no indication that his call had been heard. Killian’s heart raced in his chest, but he refused to stop. The silence that greeted him felt oppressive, like a weight pressing against his chest, suffocating him. He called her name again, his voice hoarse, “Yvette!”

Still, there was no answer.

He took another step, the floor beneath him creaking, threatening to collapse under the weight of the flames that raged around him. The smoke was thick now, so thick that he could barely keep his eyes open. He stumbled, but managed to catch himself on the frame of a door, his breath shallow and desperate. He called her name again, louder this time.

“Yvette!”

Nothing.

A voice in the back of his mind told him that it was too late, that the smoke would have overtaken them by now, that his wife and daughter were gone. But Killian refused to let the despair take hold. His fists clenched at his sides, and he called her name one more time, in desperation.

“Yvette!”

This time, a faint sound reached his ears. It was barely audible, but it was enough. He heard her voice, weak but unmistakable, a lifeline in the chaos.

“Killian,” she whispered, her voice tremulous but alive.

He nearly collapsed with relief. She was still here. She was still alive.

“Yvette, stay with me,” he called out, his voice strained as he fought to keep the panic from his voice. “Keep talking, I’m coming for you. I’m right here.”

Her voice came again, fainter now, but still there. “Killian… it’s so hot. I can’t breathe.”

“I’m coming,” he said, his voice breaking. He forced himself to push through the thick smoke, the flames dancing around him. He had to find her. He had to get her out of here.

As he continued moving forward—the smoke so thick now that it felt like a solid wall—his heart raced in time with his frantic steps.

The world seemed to narrow, and everything felt like a blur, but he focused on her voice. He would follow it to the ends of the earth if he had to.

“Yvette!” he shouted one last time.

And then, through the suffocating heat, he saw her.

There, on the floor, her back to the wall, Yvette was crouched over Maisie. Her face was smudged with soot, her hair disheveled, but it was her—she was alive.

Killian didn’t think twice. He rushed to her side, taking off his coat and stifling the flame around him to create a path.

His breath ragged, his body trembled from the heat and the smoke. He shook Yvette gently, desperately trying to rouse her.

“Yvette!” His voice was raw, desperate. “Yvette, please. Wake up.”

She opened her eyes slowly, her lashes heavy with soot, but when she saw him, a small, relieved smile tugged at her lips.

“You came for us,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Killian nodded, his heart hammering in his chest as he bent down to scoop Maisie from her arms. She was unconscious, but her small body was warm in his arms, and he held her close, feeling a surge of protectiveness that cut through the panic that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Can you stand?” he asked, and when Yvette nodded, he pulled her to her feet, not caring that she was barely conscious.

His hands were shaking as he gripped her arm, pulling her toward safety. “We have to move, now ,” he urged, his voice tight. “I’m right here, Yvette. I won’t let anything happen to you.

They made their way back through the burning house, the flames licking at their heels. The heat was unbearable, and the smoke was suffocating. Killian could feel the flames growing closer, the air growing hotter with every step. But he wasn’t going to stop. Not until they were out of here.

They reached the part of the house from which he had entered, the path that had led him inside. The flames were growing fiercer, eating through the beams, and the path ahead was blocked by a wall of fire. Yvette’s hand was shaking in his, but he gripped it firmly, unwilling to let go.

“Run!” he shouted, his voice urgent as he pulled her along. “We’re almost there.”

Yvette nodded, and despite her exhaustion, she obeyed. She ran beside him, and for a moment, Killian thought they might make it out in time. But just as they reached the door, the floor beneath them groaned.

And then, with a deafening crash, the ceiling above them collapsed, sending a shower of embers and burning wood crashing to the ground.

“Run!” Killian yelled again, but it seemed Yvette had run out of energy.